Mizoshi sat on a porch. Kanna had led here through the connecting corridor and she begged to stay in the fresh air. Surprisingly, the ghostly little girl nodded. Now, Mizoshi saw for herself what lay beyond the borders of the castle. She was no longer in her extravagant chamber and perfect walled garden full of colorful yet dying blooms. A cold, dry wind whipped at the surrounding trees on the outskirts of the grounds; tossing their skeletal, leafless branches from left to right. In the spaces between them, she glimpsed an eerie violet light on the horizon that seemed wrong and unnatural. Every now and then, a particularly nasty stench would taint the air. Mizoshi suspected if one approached directly, they would die. What's worse, there were actual creatures that could be glimpsed riding these air currents: horrid winged beings with trailing tails. So, Naraku had spoken true. There were hoards of demons at his command. Shuddering, she turned away.
"They won't hurt you," Kanna whispered. "It's foolish to fear them from such a distance."
"They're so frightening," Mizoshi replied.
The incarnation said nothing. Her gaze was fastened on the floor, that circular mirror still in her hands.
"Kanna? What exactly is that mirror for?" she dared to ask.
The little girl looked directly in Mizoshi's eyes. Kanna's own pools of black were akin to sucking voids. "It collects souls, although I'm ordered not to take yours."
She shivered, and it wasn't completely caused by the crisp autumn breezes. Staring into the distance, beyond the shadowy trees and the toxic barrier, she felt a pain of loss tug at her heart. It was for the loss of her freedom. The frigid winter was coming, and travel may be impeded. The weather would become another jailer. Longingly, Mizoshi desired to have the mysterious wood all around her with many paths to choose from. Perhaps one of those paths could lead to a new home. Perhaps Naraku would even desire to come with her. Her girlish dreams and naïve fantasies conjured up a romantic wedding in a forest glade with a cozy cottage nearby. Deep down, she knew it would never become true, for the spider never left his burrow. Or let his prey escape.
Later, she walked in the garden, observing the turn of the season's icy, brittle touch on the previously tender summer flowers. The late roses were browned and drooping, the ultramarine snapdragons were glazed in frost, and the sweet pea were tattered from the rains and nearly rotted through. Mizoshi wondered if she too would blacken and rot in this castle as well. She had been dressed in a white kimono of silk and could pass for Kanna's twin had her hair been lighter and not so dark. She had inherited the blackness of her locks from her mother of course; she couldn't remember what her father's shade was. Not that it mattered.
She often wondered if her parents were together in heaven. Or did hanyous go elsewhere?
The flow of her thoughts was dammed when Kagura suddenly strolled past. She hadn't noticed a single footstep. In the future, I must be more careful, she scolded herself. Here, in this potentially lethal place full of youkai, it was imperative to remain alert.
"Kagura!" Mizoshi cried. "Are you all right?"
"See for yourself." Fluidly, Kagura shrugged off her cherry and lavender kimono, revealing her bare back. Her bare, wounded back.
"Oh, Kagura," she murmured. "I'm so sorry-"
"Stop your wailing," the wind sorceress curtly ordered. "I'm alive, aren't I? Besides, he's done this before."
"Before? How many times?"
She didn't hesitate. "This will be the fifth."
"Just for accidentally dropping the sake? You do so much already. I'm sure you are the one that prepares my meals."
Kagura smirked. In that instant, Mizoshi could see a resemblance between the incarnation and her master on the other end of the castle. "Smart, aren't you?"
"I could prepare my own meals," she offered. "So that this does not happen again."
"You're too kindhearted, Mizoshi. Work on that if you intend to survive until next year. Furthermore, I think you have a full-time duty of your own."
"And what would that be?"
"I think you know," she said conspiringly, flipping the kimono over her shoulders again.
"Explain it to me then." She was at a loss.
"An amusement to play with whenever he chooses," Kagura elaborated. "A castle pet. I suspect I have more freedom than you do, Mizoshi."
Then Kagura walked away, and Mizoshi felt worse than before. There was no way to conceal the cruelty behind the demoness' words, especially when she feared they were right. Curling into a ball, she silently let the tears fall. She was on another plane of existence now. The wind slapped at her cheeks, but she was scarcely aware of the chill. Minutes passed until a familiar low voice was heard. "Mizoshi, what's wrong?"
She looked up to find Naraku gazing down at her. His crimson eyes held no trace of real concern, but she didn't care. "I'm…I'm just…" Mizoshi broke off, unable to speak anymore.
"Hush." Naraku sat on the cold ground next to her. She was genuinely shocked; fairly certain he wouldn't let his pristine navy and violet robes trail on the dirt in such an unseemly fashion. Speaking of which, what was she doing on the ground with a spotless, white outfit on that didn't belong to her?
"You're unhappy. Why, I wonder? Is it Kagura?" He moved closer to her. "Is it me?"
His presence was menacing and commanding at the same time. What should she say? Mizoshi did not want to blame Kagura in any respect. It would cause more trouble for the demoness and more hateful glares in her direction. Indeed, Kagura was more dangerous than Naraku in terms of poison being "accidentally" mixed in with her morning rice. After all, Kagura went through enough. Her scars proved that. Still, she couldn't ignore his question.
"I'm remembering my old life," she responded in a cracking tone. This statement was nor entirely valid, nor entirely false.
"And see how it saddens you? You should allow yourself to forget, and embrace the new."
Such wisdom. It sounded as if it would come from the mouth of a gentle monk and not from the lips of a malicious, severe demon. Lips that were so cold, like the rest of him, and yet so irresistibly soft. Damn. She obviously continued to hold these "stirring "feelings" for him. Even after he had brutally whipped Kagura for the slightest mistake. Would she be next? Would she be the next Kagura?
"You're brow is furrowed in thought, Mizoshi. What is it?"
"I'm thinking of us. That is all." Her voice was lost in the bitter wind. The scarlet leaves of the lone dogwood rustled.
"Us?" Naraku's arms were instantly around her. "I'm here, Mizoshi. I'll always be here. Don't worry."
And the howling wind blew harder.
Thanks to loves-winged-dark-angel (cool name btw!), ShawKoh1989, werewolfpixie, chii576, and bowwowlover. However, I would like to raise an issue. Not to ruffle any feathers, but please remember plagiarism is wrong. I'm not going to specify who, but there's a fic out there that is nearly a splitting image of mine right down to the embarrassing encounter in the bathing room and the morning breakfasts. These things happen, and it's not like any of the stories on Fanfiction are copyrighted, but it is rather annoying. There are dozens of Naraku fics out there with their own plots and situations. By all means, continue it if you desire, but I'm just pointing out you may do better if you write original scenarios to go with you original character. Rest assured, the original version will continue.